


A Fool's Mark

by DatPersonaUser



Series: A Fool's Mark [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi and Akira are soulmates, Akira lives in Inaba, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, But in this he is, I love Goro Akechi, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, obviously, ok not really, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatPersonaUser/pseuds/DatPersonaUser
Summary: In a world where you find your soulmate by touching them, Akira didn't get to touch his soulmate until he was too late. He's the fool in the universe's court and he tried to get in terms with it. He longs for the burn and while it was ripped right from his hands at their last moment, he still wanted to feel it even though only through memories.





	A Fool's Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Today I'm trying my hand on a ShuAke soulmate AU that I got in the middle of the night. It's 2 in the morning and I have things to do tomorrow but here I am pouring my heart out for this stupid idea. I hope you enjoy it though!

Akira never knew.

He’s thought about it, willed it to be true. Yet it never came to fruition, and it’s not from the lack of trying.

He’s always worn his gloves, in and outside of the palace, so of course he would never know.

“Good job, Joker” Akira could hear his voice right next to his ear, warm breath sweeping across his nape and he couldn’t help but shiver. Even when the older boy tapped his shoulder, Akira didn’t feel the burn he wanted so much. He glanced back towards the white of the other boy’s gloves and the red of his own.

He wanted to touch him, to confirm his own believe, yet he’d always managed to avoid his touch.

“Is there something you need?” he would ask with that sickeningly sweet <strike>fake</strike> tone of his.

Or “It’s about time, can we continue this another day? I’m rather exhausted.”

Sometimes Akira could see him staring at his hands, as if there’s a stain he couldn’t remove before looking back up and smiled that careful smile of his.

Akira wanted it to _burn. _

To feel his skin turn black under his touch, scorched like burned log in the sun.

Akira felt like a fool.

\--

It _burned. _His hands scorched black as it formed marks across his neck. Everyone was alarmed when he took his gloves off and threw them away. Even more so when he pushed the weakened boy’s mask up and pressed both his hands onto his neck, earning sharp gasps from his friends and a pained groan from the owner of said neck.

It stung his hands and it felt like electricity running up his arms and into his core.

“Come with us, please,” he begged. _Come with me_ Akira wanted to say, and for a moment there was recognition in the older boy’s eyes. Maybe even the will to concede.

If it wasn’t for that _thing_.

The gate closed and Akira couldn’t help but bang his fists on the wall, staring at his blackened palm like it’s the only thing he had left.

And it truly was, the black on his hands burned hotly even after the gunshot rang and all signals were lost. Akira could only kneel there on the floor, opening and closing his hands as if the mark would disappear after the so-many times he did it. God knows how long he’s been like that, but then Futaba called out to him, asking him to please get up or else the other shadows would come find them.

“Joker he’s—”

“Don’t. Please, not now.”

And then they made their way out of there, Akira left his gloves on the floor. He’ll get new ones the next time he returns to the palace anyway. And it will be really soon. His soul mark disappeared right after he exited the metaverse, like exactly what would happen when one’s soul mate died. How could he mourn something he’s had for mere minutes?

(The mark returned in the metaverse, Morgana and Futaba speculated that it’s because he’s made it a permanent part of him. Akira couldn’t disagree, his gloves didn’t come back.)

Shido mocked him, mocked his dead son and when Akira punched him in the face and showed the defeated man his hands the shadow laughed and called him a fool.

He watched the ship sunk to the bottom of the sea and he refused to think of his other half that drowned with it.

\--

Yaldabaoth offered to return that boy to him.

To tell the truth, he offered great many things, but Akira paid no attention to any of them. The God said that he could give what Akira wanted, because he grants the wish of the masses. And Akira’s won his little game, the winner’s wish should be above the others.

And Akira was honest to God tempted. Like a parched man in view of the sea or a famished man in sight of a buffet.

But he couldn’t. Metatron stopped him, there are rules that must be obeyed and bending it would do him no good.

So Akira refused.

Yaldabaoth called him a fool.

He watched his soul mark disappear—once again, along with the rubble of mementos and Morgana.

\--

Akira spent the 1 and a half months in jail thinking. His mark never showed up again and he wondered if he’d ever get it to come back.

But of course not, his soulmate is dead.

No one ever approached him for the months he was there, except for one young man that held warm brown eyes. He was there for robbery. Akira could relate somehow.

The young man asked Akira if he’s waiting for something, or if he’s done something bad. Akira chuckled and replied that he won’t be there if he’s a model citizen. The two were acquaintance at best, they talk sometimes when the other boys are too rowdy and they’re not in the mood to be around the commotion.

After a months in, Akira saw that the young man had his soul mark on his back. His soulmate is apparently his childhood friend so he’s had it since forever, he thought nothing of it. Akira was envious. When asked if Akira had a soul mark he replied that it’s faded already and the other didn’t say anything else, knowing what it meant.

\--

He was glad to see his friends again and the feeling was mutual, he joked and told them that it took them way too long to bust him out of jail. That seemed to have lighten up their mood, even more so when Morgana returned. Akira held his cat that night as if he would disappear again and Morgana understood. He didn’t say anything but he understood.

He understood that Akira’s lost too much, so he won’t laugh and call him a fool this time.

\--

“I don’t get it, man. You were soulmates with the guy that tried to kill you? What the eff?” Ryuji frowned as Akira told the thieves of his short-lived _romance_ with the detective. “Oh come now, Ryuji, don’t be judgmental, it’s not like he had any control over it,” Ann chimed in. Of course she would defend him, she’s a romantic like that.

“So Yaldabaoth didn’t just pit you against each other for posterity sakes, but also because you’re both soul mates. Such cruelty,” Yusuke mumbled under his breath while he sketched. The strokes of his pencil soothing the roar of the machine. “But at least you could actually confirm it, Akira-kun,” Haru smiled gently, planting a hand on his shoulder and squeezed ever so slightly. Akira nodded wordlessly.

“Though, I can see why Akira and Akechi are soul mates,” Futaba looked up from her switch and leaned to the front seat, her head next to Akira. “You’re both wild cards, you’re both suffered enough, and you both wear masks all the time,” she reached out to poke the side of Akira’s head. The older boy held her hand and stroke gently, “Don’t we all? I say he contains all of our sufferings combined.” The red haired girl laid her head on Akira’s headrest and hummed, “I guess.” Makoto raised a brow, “Wait, how so?” Ryuji scratched his head and crossed his arm, “Yeah man, that guy had his problems, sure, but like ours?”

Akira turned to Ryuji first, “He’s viewed as a nuisance. To his father, to his peers, to his colleagues.” Makoto frowned when Akira turned to her, “He’s just following orders, even though in the end he used it for his own gains.” Ann twirled a lock of her blonde hair before continuing herself, “Nobody sees him for who he really is. Like me,” a somber look clouded her eyes as Akira turned to Yusuke who turned the page of his sketchbook and started to make a new picture, “He wanted to be recognized for his skills, even though he had to fake most of it.” Ren held Haru’s hand by his side and squeezed, “Used by his father as a trophy of his success or simply a pawn to move around.” Haru closed her eyes and turned her hand palm up to squeeze back, “And I forgave him, for that.” Futaba didn’t wait until Akira turned to her, she knew, “He’s blamed for his mother’s death,” a quiver in her voice and she buried her face onto Yusuke’s shoulder next to her, “By everyone and by himself… Mom…” Yusuke stopped his sketching to wrap a gangly arm around Futaba, everyone noticed their closeness and Akira smiled to Morgana who sat quietly in his arms.

“He wanted a place to belong,” the cat finally added, though a lot quieter than the others, “Like me.” Akira pet his black fur and looked up to the open hatch, “And both he and I wanted revenge on the man that ruined our lives. Couldn’t be more perfect than that.” Ryuji elbowed his leader and grinned, “Match made in heaven.” Akira smiled to himself, “Heaven. I hope he didn’t get lost on his way there.”

He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to blame someone, anyone. Wanted to beg someone to bring him back, at least so that they could talk it out. Figure out where to go next.

As everyone hugged him and comforted him between his tears Akira clenched his fists into two tight balls. He missed the fire in his hands, the scorched marks.

He wanted to have it back if only as a reminder.

He wanted Goro Akechi back.

\--

_10 years later, Inaba_

Akira exited Shiroku’s store, lit cigarette between his lips, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sunglasses covered his eyes as he turned it upwards towards the blue sky of Inaba’s spring. He turned his gaze to his phone, a few unread messages from the former thieves about their next trip to meet Akira and confirming the newest news out of Inaba.

It’s been 10 years since all of the phantom thieves’ madness. He’s pursued a political career after graduating U-Tokyo and studied under Yoshida for a while and proved to be quite popular. It also hasn’t escaped the public’s attention that he didn’t have a wife or a significant other, but every time he was questioned, he just laughed. While it stung, he’s learned to never give anything away. He’s never worn gloves and he didn’t hide behind long sleeves. People tried touching him though, handshakes mostly, but the bolder ones liked to grab him suddenly.

They were all left disappointed, of course.

Akira smiled at those who tried to touch him and shook his head, _I’m sorry to disappoint_ he would say and the other party would blush and apologize and leave. Whenever he’s alone, Akira looked down to his hand and wondered silently the same thing he’s wondered for the last 10 years.

He stopped by the river bank and let out the puff of smoke after inhaling it deeply. He remembered Iwai’s reaction when he first smoked, he walked him through it though was pleasantly surprised. _‘You didn’t look the type_,_’ _he’d said and Akira laughed.

Akira looked towards the horizons and sighed, letting his cigarette hang between his lips lazily. While Shido had managed to ruin Inaba for him 11 years ago, he’s never stopped loving the place. With the fogs dancing softly in the mornings and the rains that walked beside him every night, he’s raised there, after all.

He’s never been there in Inaba with _him _but for some reason Akira could see him everywhere. In the baking isle of Junes, in the souzai daigaku, in the shrine, even the police station. But his shadows followed Akira the most near the river. Whenever the sun would set, it was as if he could see his other half, sitting under the gazebo, gazing at the horizon like Akira did every day.

Usually he won’t dwell on his thoughts for a while, so he stretched and walked away when he pulled his phone out of his pocket again.

**_Gremlin.com [16.20]: Where are you?? You said you’d play that MMO with me _**(」°ロ°)」

Akira chuckled softly at the typical text and replied quickly,

** _You [16.21]: Be home soon, was buying some snacks from Shiroku_ **

** _You [16.21]: Give me a 5_ **

** _Gremlin.com [16.21]: 3 minutes and counting, Akira!_ **

Akira shook his head and skipped up the stairs leading back to the river bank, “Sheesh what a troublesome girl,” though deep down he’s grateful for the distraction. For some reason, Futaba always know when to interrupt his brooding, even when far away. He had a sneaking suspicion that she never actually erased that bug on his phone.

“Excuse me!”

It’s stupid to dwell on the dead, they should be able to pass on peacefully. Akira would be a fool to hope for something else.

“Sir!”

Even though Yaldabaoth had tried to goad him into giving up all control, Akira knew that it was a ruse. He made a promise, and he had fulfilled it. He should’ve been more than content to have at least felt that burn once in his life. Some people didn’t get to feel it at all; no matter how long they waited.

But there’s no fault in dreaming of course. Surely the universe would let him have at least this.

Surely it would let the fool have his meager fantasies.

“Sir, I said wait!”

Akira stopped in his tracks as something hot pressed to his forearm like a hot pocket in the middle of winter. He turned to a face a young man, whose eyes casted down to their connected limbs and then back up to him.

Wine red eyes stared back at Akira’s stormy greys, chestnut hair blowing in the wind like a meet cute in every single _shoujo _manga, and confusion very clearly painted on his face. A very familiar face, accompanied by a very familiar burn.

Ah, Akira truly was a fool in the eye of the universe.

** _You [16.23]: Give me a 10._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Was thinking of making a spin-off from Akechi's point of view. I got it drafted but it needs to be fleshed out. Tell me what you think! Thank you for reading!


End file.
